Relieving the Tension
by Quen Galad
Summary: Wolverine and Storm have a lot in common. The constant struggle for control, for example. They both try desperately to keep themselves in check, and not only because of their powers...
1. Chapter 1

The summer sun was pouring its heat onto the institute grounds, shimmering on the surface of the sea and gleaming off the tree leaves. The intense heat smothered all activity of birds, animals and humans, a tired silence laying on the whole area.

The institute was empty - the students were gone for vacation, and so were Charles and Hank. The big mansion was almost deserted, hosting only one person - Ororo.

She was savouring the peace and quiet that was rare around here, tending the greenhouse, exercising and reading. She had been looking forward to this period of respite, because she needed some time alone. She needed to think.

Most of the people who knew her thought her a calm, serene, almost aloof person, wise and sensible in a mature kind of way. And she was, up to a point, but not because such was her character. She was an immensely powerful mutant, and every day she fought to control her powers, to keep them in check, to prevent them from ever slipping her grasp. There was no telling what could happen if she lost that control, but she was determined never to find out.

And that was the point, really. She has been exercising her self-control for so many years that she smothered her personality and became a cold, aloof statue. She was no longer a Storm, she was a Dead Calm. And yet, underneath, there was a boiling cauldron of passions, a longing for adventure, excitement and danger that was always trying to break loose. She was doing her best to keep it subdued, but it was becoming harder every day. She would fly out at night to bring fearsome storms down from the sky, far out over the ocean where no one would be hurt. But the relief was temporary and shallow, leaving her craving for something more satisfying.

She tried to keep herself occupied, hoping it would chase the strange restless longing away, but in vain. Even tending the beautiful plants in the greenhouse could not soothe her temper. Exasperated, she threw an empty flowerpot at the wall where it shattered, and ran outside. Enough with this heat! She wanted a cold rain, and she would have it.

As the cold raindrops hit her skin and soaked her hair, she could feel the fire inside her diminish, but not die out completely. Oh no, she knew very well that no amount of rain, no flood in the world could douse that kind of fire. Why was she burning so fiercely for him? A day couldn't pass without her thinking about him. The way he moved, his body tense and ready to spring, like a trap, like a predator looking for its prey. The way he could remain silent, and yet occupy the whole world, just standing there being quiet. The way he looked at her, his eyes never, ever giving her a clue to what he was thinking.

She remembered the last time she saw him, two weeks ago - he was working on his motorbike in the garage, and she felt the sudden urge to see him. She got two beers from the fridge and went there, drinking on her way down to give herself both courage and alibi. She offered him the other beer and he took it, his fingers brushing over her hand for a moment. He growled a thanks, but he looked away as if he was angry. Not that it mattered - the only thing that counted for her was the fleeting touch. His hand was just like him, strong, hard and just rough enough to make it even more exciting. She wondered what would it be like to feel those hands on her waist, trailing up to her breasts...

She cursed angrily and there was an answering flash from the sky. The rain was not working anymore, so with a wave of her hand she chased the clouds away. Stop thinking about him. Stop imagining his body on yours, his touch, his breath... Damn! She had to do something about it. Get tired, maybe, run a few miles, exhaust her body so that it has no other desire but to sleep. With that thought, she set out towards the woods.

Logan was irritated. He was passing his time in this stinking joint, winning easy money in laughable pool games with some flea-ridden bikers that thought they could intimidate him with their skull-and-bone jackets. Usually he'd take care not to win too much, because otherwise the patrons would protest and it would all get ugly pretty quick, but today he had such a lousy temper he was practically looking forward to gutting someone.

One of the reasons for that was the hooker on the other side of the pool table. She started her working day trying to get some other guy, but transferred her attention to Logan almost immediately. He was winning more money, he was cleaner, and he was actually good-looking. She wasn't so bad herself, insofar as a hooker can look good, but she was scraping on his nerves like a file because apparently she decided to make herself more exciting by dying her hair white. Every time he looked at her, he thought of Storm, and the fact that this whore was in any way connected to the exquisite weathermistress was enough insult to make him want to kill her on the spot. Unfortunately the hooker mistook his angry stare for a lustful one and advanced on him, hips swaying and eyes sparkling.

"Want a good time, stranger?" she said, loud enough for the whole bar to hear. Logan fought back the urge to let his claws out.

"Sure" he said, instead, "but I don't think ya could give it to me." He spoke as loud as she had, and enjoyed the silence that followed.

"Ooo, excuse me" she said, slowly and deliberately. "I didn't think you were into boys."

Logan sighed. So much for having a good time. He would really have enjoyed picking a fight here, seeing the patrons go from amused aggression to terrified submission in seconds. He would have enjoyed their incredulous stares as they realized he was fully capable of single-handedly slaughtering them all. But he needed a good excuse for that, and this wasn't even an insult. The hell with it.

"Take my advice, baby. Stick to your regulars, and don't start something ya couldn't handle." He pocketed the money he'd won, leaving enough to cover the bill, and put on his jacket. A few men were already rising in their seats when the hooker spoke again.

"Yeah..." she began, thoughtfully. "I'll do that. I had strange men in my time, but you... You look like a real beast. I don't think I could handle you."

Logan smiled a mirthless smile and left. Only when the sound of his engine died away did the locals resume their conversation.

He rode aimlessly for a while, trying to arrange his thoughts. He knew there was nobody in the institute but Storm, and that was the chief reason he was cruising around and pretending to be busy. Everybody in the mansion thought him a secretive loner, a man who disappeared all the time running some strange errands, and it was partly true. He would get involved with HYDRA, track Sabretooth and whoever it was who did this to him, but it was much rarer than they all thought. Mostly, he needed time away from Storm.

Her beauty, her cold, statuesque appearance and calm manner were bringing out the worst of his violent instincts. It didn't help that he could smell her excitement whenever she was near. He knew she wanted him, he could practically taste her arousal in the air, but she was too much of a lady to ever mention it. And try as he might, the beast in him growled at the mere sight of her, the primal, animalistic lust boiling in his veins as he inhaled her scent. It took all his self control to keep the beast on a leash, to prevent his instincts from guiding his actions. To stop himself, in fact, from throwing her on the ground and ravishing her there and then.

He wanted to own her, to possess her, to ride her lust like he rode his motorbike. He wanted to turn her from the perfect, icy statue into a burning hurricane. And he was terribly afraid that if he ever lost control he would hurt her, he would let the beast loose and it would brutalize her. He fought the instincts back, but he simply couldn't banish the image of her naked body stretched under him, her hair spread out on the bed, her chocolate skin too delicious for words. He dreamt of her voice, usually so regal and majestic, calling his name in between ecstatic moans. He dreamt of her screaming and writhing under him...

The wail of a car horn brought him brutally back to the here and now. He barely managed to escape a truck speeding from the opposite direction, his knee passing inches from its bumper. He maneuvered dangerously for a moment, trying to avoid crushing into the lorry on one side and the cliff on the other, and growled at himself for being so stupid. Ya won't regenerate from being a mincemeat, ya stupid mongrel, he thought trying to shake off those visions. When he regained some control of his bike, he saw he was not far from the institute.

His stomach intervened at this point, trying to remind him that the organ that was occupying his attention lately wasn't the only one he possessed. He battled with himself for a moment, but he was tired and hungry and in need of a shower, and while he could see to all that elsewhere, the institute was his home lately and it was a comfortable one. He decided to get in by the side gate, leave the bike in the small shed there and walk the rest of the way. He would make sure she doesn't even know he's there.


	2. Chapter 2

Once he was off the bike, the summer heat poured down on Logan with all its smothering force. He took off both his jacket and the t-shirt underneath, already darkened by sweat stains. He got out of the shed and into the wood that covered a part of the institute's big grounds, where there was some shade and the heat was not so intense. He was setting out towards the mansion when he picked up her scent.

By the smell of it, she'd been running. He could smell her sweat and adrenaline, could see the tracks she left in the grass. He followed the trail automatically, some small, rational part of him pretending to think she might be in trouble and need help. He knew she was probably only out jogging but it didn't matter because mostly he didn't think at all. He just picked up a scent and followed it like a predator that, after all, he was.

After a while he realized the trail was at least an hour old, but it didn't matter because he was already in pursuit. It led him to a small clearing where patches of trampled grass and swirls of scent in the air told him she had stopped to take some additional exercise. He found a long impression in the turf where she must have laid down, and the smell there made him pause.

He dropped onto his knees, bringing his nose closer to the ground. It took him some time to assess all that he was getting, the mixture of smells being a complex one, but the overall nature of what he could pick up was unmistakeable. Storm had come here, she's been working out for some time, and part of the workout had been situps. She lay down on the grass to do them and stayed that way for some time. It almost made Logan fall flat on his face when he realized she had also been masturbating.

The overpowering aroma of her body enveloped his mind. She was here, the aloof, serene goddess was here, laying right on the grass, her legs spread, touching herself. She had reached a state where nothing else could be done, where she had to relieve the tension by touching herself. He could smell it like a picture, and the sensation took hold of him completely. Without thinking, he lay down on the very same patch of grass, drinking in the scent, sniffling its every particle. He knew Scott often thought of him as an animal, and right now he would have agreed. He was an animal ; he felt like a wolf must surely feel in January, when instinct kicks in and all that matters is mating. He had to suppress the urge to howl.

He had no idea how long he stayed there, lost in wild, lustful visions. He thought of making her touch herself for him, and he knew he could do it. Oh yes he could. He remembered the scent of her desire, every time he came close to her, her heart beating faster and her body getting wet just because of his presence. He would have her slavering for his touch, he would make her burn with desire and then beg for him, beg for release. He would make her do anything for him...

When he finally pulled himself together it was afternoon and he was starving. He crept into the mansion, scouting out the premises carefully, because he sure as hell wasn't going to run into her right now. In his current state it could get pretty ugly, and if the x-men found he raped Storm they would probably lynch him. Deservingly so, he thought as he shivered at the horrible concept. Well, at least it took the lust away and he could walk easier now.

He managed to get into his room without leaving a clue to his presence. He had bought some food on the way, because she would spot if a full dinner was missing from the fridge, and he devoured it on the balcony so that the smell would not linger and go stale in his room. Hunger satisfied, he took the rest of his clothes off and stepped into the shower, thankful for Charles's wealth that allowed them to have a bathroom adjoining each room. Icy cold water poured down his overheated body, washing away road dust, sweat and boiling excitement. He could feel himself cooling down, so he took his time, calming his mind that still felt ashamed of its animalistic urges. He then decided he would spend a quiet evening at home, something that didn't happen to him very often, and passed the time patching up his clothes and sewing back missing buttons, something he was an expert on, having served for many years in many different armies.

'Ro was in the greenhouse, gluing up a broken flowerpot. He watched her for a moment, and then avoided her carefully while he sneaked to the kitchen, where he picked up some coffee. He went back to his room, put the light out and tried to relax.

The fist thing that Ororo saw when she was back in the mansion were the remains of the flowerpot she broke earlier. She sighed and took them to the workbench for reassembling, wondering for a hundredth time why the mere thought of Logan made her do strange things. She has been flying over the ocean again, but there were many yachts out in this weather and she had to come back before someone saw too much. Methodically applying the glue to the clay pieces, she forgot about him for blessed twenty minutes. As the sun descended towards the horizon and the air was no longer baking, she went out again to summon some more rain. The institute grounds would need it.

She stepped out onto the lawn and concentrated her powers. Once summoned, the rain did not need her attention, and she relaxed inhaling the beautiful scent of the gardens and woods, enjoying the touch of the water on her skin. Together with the touch of bed sheets it was the only caress she'd known for some time now, and in few seconds her thoughts were back on the very same track she fought so desperately to leave. Well, at least now that she was alone she could do one of the things she always loved. She was capable of using a shower, even though the small compartments always made her nervous, and she enjoyed long, scented baths, but what she really and truly adored was a natural spray. So she took off her clothes swiftly and stood on the grass, naked, raising her arms to meet the rain. Then, with a happy sigh, she sank to her knees relishing in the feel of grass blades touching her legs. She turned onto her back and stretched out on the lawn, closing her eyes and enjoying the storm.

The raindrops hitting the windowpane made Logan interrupt his workout. The unexpected rain might mean that 'Ro was in trouble, though he didn't hear lightning so it couldn't be serious. Still, he remembered the time she had those strange nightmares, when she would trash in her sleep and the weather would go completely crazy. Best to check it out discreetly. Keeping close to the wall he glimpsed out of the window but didn't see her around, so he decided to check the other side of the mansion. He left the room quietly and looked out of the corridor window. It was raining steadily, and from here he could see her, just standing there. She was turned the other way so he sat on the windowsill and admired her figure, confident she couldn't see him. And then, just as he was thinking of going out for a refreshing walk in the rain himself, she stripped.

Logan sat with his mouth open. In a few seconds she was laying down on the lawn, completely naked. She even took her sandals off, tossing the clothes on a heap carelessly, and just lay there like the rain goddess that she was. He was dazed by both her beauty and her strange behavior ; apparently being alone made her much less inhibited... He started to wonder just how much more relaxed she was, and his mind was once more flooded by those dark, hot visions that almost got him killed on the road. His throat went dry, his heart thumping loud in his chest. This was all too much for him. Quietly, swiftly, he opened the window and climbed down the wall onto the lawn.


	3. Chapter 3

Ororo was laying on the grass, her eyes closed, her body stretched comfortably. She enjoyed the pure freedom of it and chuckled as she thought of the other x-men. What would they do if they saw her like this? Rogue would laugh, in a derisive kind of way, but she would be more pleased than shocked to see her so relaxed. Hank would combine both paternal and scholarly understanding, Charles would avoid the matter discreetly and politely. When she thought of Scott and Jean, she had to laugh out loud. "Storm, are you all right? Are you ill?" Scott would be all concern and awkwardness, Jean would be horrified in a quiet, well-bred kind of way. Ororo knew that Jean was admiring her composure, that she was trying to be like her. She wondered what would the young telepath feel if she ever read her mind. She would probably be quite shocked to find that the calm statue she admired was only there on the surface. Storm laughed again as she thought of that.

"What's so funny, darlin'?" A low, male voice growled right next to her ear. She pushed herself up on her elbows, eyes flying open in shock.

"What are you doing here?" It was Logan. He was crouching right next to her, wearing only a pair of jeans. The rain was pouring in little streams off his broad shoulders and down his chest, his eyes boring into her face as if he was trying to pin her down with his stare. And he was succeeding.

"I live here" he said, with infuriating calm. He was clearly enjoying seeing her off balance. "I thought you knew."

"I mean, right now" she said, cursing herself for sounding so dumb. Her clothes were too far, scuttling away to snatch them would rob her of any remains of dignity. She pulled herself together. "You certainly took pains to pass unnoticed. Are you stalking me, Logan?"

"No" he said simply, leaning slightly forward. "I didn't want to disturb your peaceful solitude" there was a smug grin on his face as he said that. "But," he continued, extending a hand and wrapping a strand of her hair around his fingers, "you look like you'd welcome some company right now."

"I have no idea what you mean" she said, but her voice sounded weak even to her. He was touching her hair, gently, dreamily, but with increasing purpose. All of his fingers were tangled in the silvery curls by now, and she found she was holding her breath as he wrapped them around his hand, once, twice... and then he pulled, just enough to make her head fall back and her lips open in surprise.

"No?" he hissed, rising his eyebrows critically. He run his thumb on her lower lip, his mind reminding him of all the fantasies he ever had about her gorgeous mouth. He stared at it for some time, hypnotized by the view of her lips, by the smell of her hair, by the sound of her breathing. His body tensed as he struggled with his own lust, trying to prevent instinct from taking over.

Storm just lay there, rainwater pouring off her naked body, eyes riveted to Logan's face. She wondered why did he hesitate, why was he suddenly frozen with that strange expression, but it didn't really matter. All that mattered was her desire ; she could feel herself burning with it so fiercely that the raindrops should have sizzled. She wanted to scream at him to touch her right now, to fill her body just like he has already filled her mind.

She looked into his eyes waiting for him to stare back. When he did, she stuck out her tongue just enough to tease his fingertip with it. With a growl, Logan pulled her head further back, his mouth suddenly pressed against her neck, kissing her hungrily. She gasped in surprise, but was soon cut off when he slid his finger into her mouth. Without thinking, she swirled her tongue around it, earning another of his feral growls. She reached out to him, grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close to her, their wet, naked bodies sliding against each other. He lowered his head to her breasts, practically devouring them now that he finally could taste them. Kissing her, licking and biting, he could not believe it was really happening. He half expected to wake up, any minute now, in some hospital after the accident on the road.

He took her one nipple in his mouth and run his fingers over the other, making her arch her back and moan. His head was spinning with the taste, smell and sound of her desire, combined into an incredibly powerful mixture that attacked his senses. He didn't even know when and how he lay on top of her, his lips still pressed to her breasts, his hands sliding down to her buttocks. She was breathing heavily and fighting for control, trying not to be overpowered by the pleasure he was giving her, trying to give something in return ; but it wasn't easy. Now that all her desires were being fulfilled, she had to resist the urge to just lay back and forget herself.

When he grabbed her buttocks in both hands, she spread her legs further to make them both comfortable and the hard, rough fabric of his jeans rubbed unpleasantly against her most sensitive parts. She reached down quickly and, after a brief struggle with his belt, got them out of the way. Her hand wrapped itself around him almost on its own, and she just had to squeeze him. Two things happened when she did.

He gasped loudly, exposing his teeth and brushing them agains her nipple, and his claws slid out, cutting through the lawn under her. Terrified, she froze, realising how close she was to a sudden, horrible death. If his hands were in a different position he might just have killed her... Holding her breath, she looked at him, eyes wide with panic. And some part of his mind was horrified too, by losing control so easily and by the frightening possibility of hurting her. But the beast was howling inside him, and it was not going to be caged this time.

''Watch out, darlin', you can see what you're toying with now'' he growled, smiling nastily at her scared expression. He moved his hands to squeeze her buttocks, claws raking up the earth under them. He could feel her flinch, her hips moving up to avoid contact with the deadly blades, which meant they now came into closer contact with him. He had to close his eyes when he felt her warm center press against his length.

Her fear evaporated in that very second. She ground her hips against him, smiling at the expression on his face, and brought her lips to his ear.

''Whatever you've got, you can let it loose now'' she whispered, brushing her mouth against his skin. ''I can handle it. I want to handle it.''

He took her in that very second, brutally invading her body, overtaking her, possessing her. She screamed, her back arching under him and legs digging into the grass. Her eyes were shut, a strange mixture of pleasure and shock on her face, as if she couldn't believe she finally got him, and wind rose around them, whipping the water on their skins. Thunder exploded over the sea and Storm was shaking convulsively, hands clenched and eyes shut. Staring at her in amazement, Logan realized she was climaxing already.

He shook his head in disbelief, thinking how frustrated, how hungry she must have been. How she must have longed for this. He decided to satisfy that hunger in every way he could. Wrenching his hands free, he straightened up, holding her hips close so that their bodies didn't separate. He knelt on the lawn, lifting her to meet his thrusts, and the air around them became a tornado of rain, wind, and moans of pleasure. Lightning hit repeatedly as Storm screamed out loud, unable to contain either her powers or her desire.

They both went wild, determined to fulfill every possible need, to both give and get everything they ever dreamed of. In short, they fucked like there was no tomorrow. He was roaring like a lion, thrusting deep into her hot, welcoming center again and again. There was no subtlety in it, and there couldn't have been, because his desire for her was too strong : he just wanted to ravish her lovely body for the rest of eternity. He didn't even pause to think whether she really wanted it that way, but he didn't have to. Storm was moaning, screaming and shouting his name, buckling her hips to meet his thrusts. She expected him to be an intense lover, but he was surpassing her wildest imaginations. He was indeed a beast... and she loved him that way.

When their hunger was finally satisfied, it was already night-time. Storm lay on the grass panting, her hair a wet tangled mass of grassblades and silvery curls, her body still shivering with passion and exhaustion. Logan fell down next to her, his legs unable to support him anymore, and pulled her close with his arm around her waist. When he raised the other hand to brush the hair from his eyes, he saw a dark trail of blood on his claws.

Still hazy, his gaze wandered around, not understanding what it was recording. Finally he saw an extensive cut on his thigh. His jeans were ripped open and the flesh underneath was wounded in several places, blood still trickling from it in a steady stream. He must have slashed himself a couple of times, but he didn't even realize that.

Oh well. Nothing his healing powers couldn't handle, he thought as he forced the claws back. Storm was snuggling up to him and he held her tight, again thinking he must be dreaming. Any minute now I'll wake up, he thought, and it'll be a hospital, with some doc telling me how lucky I was to live after hitting that lorry.

At this point Ororo lifted herself up unsteadily on one elbow and kissed him. He kissed her back, all his thoughts concentrating around her.

''You're cold, darlin'. Come on up'' he said, feeling the cool touch of her skin. She protested lazily, but he picked her up effortlessly, wincing at the twinges in his legs. He stood up, still a little shakily, and took in their surroundings. Fallen branches were lying under the trees, broken by Storm's untamed powers. All the deckchairs had been thrown into the swimming pool, which was overflowing. And out on the ocean, people were trying to recover their capsized boats, wondering what on earth just happened.

''Look what have you done'' he said, kissing her on the cheek. He felt strange, warm and happy in a calm, relaxed way. She gazed around dreamily, and when she finally understood, she smiled. ''That wasn't me. This is all your fault.''

''Yeah, but layin' out there naked with your legs spread you were kinda provokin' me'' he growled, squeezing her tighter. ''You think it'll always be that way when we do it?''

''Are we going to do it more often, then?'' She was exhausted, and she knew she would be sore for the whole week, but her body was already tingling at the mere thought of repeating this.

''As often as possible, darlin'.''


End file.
